Fresh Bruises
by phenomenalxlaura
Summary: READ: I'm not entirely sure if I'll continue this story. It's more of a test chapter than anything else (new writing format/style). I will say, though, that once I really sat down and started writing it, I began getting into the story and really like the outcome of it. If you'd like me to continue the story, feel free to say so in the reviews or PM me personally.


Teaser prologue. Not sure if I should continue this... Thoughts?

The sound of her feet clobbering against the charcoal asphalt ground. Her breaths were becoming heavier and heavier; she was running away, something she was all too familiar with. She kept on running, eventually stopping at the end of a street, right across from an abandoned railroad station. The wet dirt and grim sticking to the sides of her shoes; splattering against her ripped jeans. The last thing she wanted to run into was another problem that would permanently scar her life for all eternity. Her life had always been disorderly; the majority of it was just a blur. She lost her smile a long time ago in the false interpretation of it all. In life you're promised happiness, love, and peacefulness, but the fact is, all of it's a lie. Despite the beauty life tends to show, promises are meant to be broken.

Tears filled her hazel eyes, cascading down her rosy cheeks. Her eyes were just as red as her cheeks were, if not worse, from all the tears. She was hanging by a thread. All it would take was one more jab, one more hit into her already bruised, welted skin. She couldn't handle the beatings anymore, the constant bickering, the constant verbal abuse. She couldn't handle it anymore; she wasn't strong enough for this world anymore. The emotional rollercoaster she had been riding on since the start of her existence was beginning to run it's dire course.

"Ma'am?" The faded sound of a man's voice called out, standing behind the petite woman. He reached out, gently brushing the tips of his fingers against her shoulder. "Are you alright, miss?" He asked again.

She wanted, in that moment, to fall apart instantly, but instead brought her hand up, wiping her tears away, sucking in a deep breath of air. Faking a smile, much like what she had done all her life. "I…I'm fine."

She knew the question he was about to ask; it was the one she was always asked whenever she'd put on her best smile. "Are you sure?" His words tugged to her heart strings. She felt herself breaking apart at the seams. "It's freezing out here, why don't you, uh, come inside."

Her hazel eyes averted to the ground, shaking her head. She wanted to turn down the offer and keep running, but her distress got the best of her this time. After a long pause, "Sure." She finally turned to face the stranger, her bruised right eye in full view, followed by the bloodshot eyeball itself. Fresh wounds.

"Jesus Christ!" The man consoled her, trying to wrap his arms around her, "What happened to you?" She flinched at the feeling of his arms wrapping around her body. "Sorry." He indicated lightly.

She shrugged, coming up with the typical reasoning that any abused woman would come up with. "I'm clumsy. Fell down a few steps and…I'm crying because my dog, uh, he, uh, died." She said, huffing in a deep breath.

He could tell she was lying, but didn't even start to argue. Who knew what type of emotional fuse that'd ignite in her. She was an emotional ticking time bomb. "You, um, should come in though. Before you catch a cold. It's freezing out here, miss."

"I…can't. I have a home to go to." She choked out a sob, her voice dejected and timid. Time was never on her side. Time, much like her, was just a ticking time bomb. Who know when that final tick would hit her. As sick as it might be, she couldn't wait to take in her final breath, slipping away from this vile world. What's the most she had to look forward to? Another day of drug use, alcoholism, verbal and physical abuse, and, on top of all that, sexual abuse? Where's the fun in that? When you live a life like she's lived, one that most people wouldn't even begin to live in their entire life time, who wouldn't look forward to taking in her last breath of air? Malnourished, beaten, bloody, and bruised, you'd think she would've died a long time ago, but there was one thing stopping her. Her deadbeat, abusive father. Just when you'd think he'd wail down on her, giving her that final blow to the head, he'd stop. He had to keep her around. She was his slave afterall.

"How about this…how about you come in, warm up a bit with some hot cocoa or something, then I'll give you a ride home?" She flinched again. Kindness wasn't something she was used to. "Come on. I won't hurt you."

"I… I can't…" And with that, she headed back in the direction she came from, retracing her steps as some would say. Retracing her steps back to her own personal hell. Her walls were crumbling down before her very eyes, but that was her only escape. She was so used to fighting her own battles that she detached herself from the only person willing to help her, even in the slightest form, offering warmth and kindness. But she walked away and went back to her own personal hell for what she truly wanted…being erased from the evil world she had lived since she took her first breath in this world.


End file.
